Don't Count Me Out
by Fictionsforfans
Summary: "The doctor stepped into the room and studied the three nervous brothers in the waiting room. Taking a breath, he spoke the words that would forever change the Greaser's life. 'I looked over your test results and I'm afraid there is only one diagnosis I can give you'" How will the gang cope when Sodapop is sick?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own The Outsiders. All rights go to S.E. Hinton.

-Sodapop's POV-

I woke up in the middle of the night, my body shaking while I broke out into another fit of coughs. My chest felt like it was being ripped in two. I've been having these coughing attacks for almost two weeks now and nothing I seemed to do made them any better. Darry had told me to try not to lay down flat when I slept but that didn't even work.

That was my third fit of the night. I tried to suppress my coughs the best I could, but it was too late. Ponyboy had already heard me.

"Are you alright?" Worry was etched all over his face. "Do you want me to get Darry?" His voice rose an octave when he saw how bad I was coughing.

"No, I'll be okay." I knew Darry pulled a double-shift last night and I didn't want him to lose any more sleep because of me. "Can you get me a glass of water?"

I heard Pony creep down the hallway and returned with my water, which I was very grateful for. It felt as if someone was grabbing my lungs and squeezing all the air out of them. He handed me the glass and I took several big gulps.

"Thanks Pony." I set the glass down next to me on the nightstand in case I needed it again tonight. I hoped I wouldn't, but the way my night was going I figured I wouldn't be so lucky.

Pony flopped back down on the mattress and I slung my arm around him and pulled him in close to me. I wasn't feeling so hot lately and it was nice to have someone I loved close to me at night. He was out like a light as soon as his head hit the pillow. I ran my fingers through his hair and nodded right back off to sleep with him.

XxXxXxXxXx

When I woke up in the morning, I was glad to see that Pony didn't move from under my arm all night. That kid could sleep as long as you let him.

Darry's heavy footsteps entered the room and shook Ponyboy and I awake.

"Hey Pone," he said, his voice still gruff with sleep. "You got school today. Get up for some eggs and bacon."

"Five more minutes Dare?"

"I gave you five minutes ten minutes ago," Darry said, and headed into the bathroom to wash up and shave.

"I'm sorry you lost some sleep last night because of me Ponyboy," I said. He already lost enough sleep because of his nightmares.

"You lose sleep because of my nightmares so we'll call it even," He assured me with a smile. "Do ya got work today?"

I nodded. I dreaded the thought of going to work when I felt so lousy, but I had to do what was necessary to keep my family together. Finances were tight as it was, and taking a day off was a luxury we could not afford.

"Maybe you should take the day off," Ponyboy started. "You're awfully pale Sodapop."

I dismissed him and hurried into the kitchen in hopes of getting some breakfast. Darry was making bacon and eggs which smelled delicious. I grabbed a few helpings of eggs, with grape jelly of course, and joined Ponyboy at the kitchen table.

"You feelin' alright?" Darry asked me. "I heard you coughing last night."

I immediately felt guilty for waking Darry up. "It's probably just the flu or something."

"Or _something_ ," Darry repeated back to me. "I made an appointment with the doctor for you today. I'll pick you up at the DX after I'm done with my shift.

"Why'd ya have to go and do that?" I said. "You know we can't afford it."

"As your guardian and big brother, it's my responsibility to take care of you. Besides, you ain't feeling well and you know it."

With that conversation ending, Two-Bit and Steve burst through door and wandered over to the source of the food.

"Good Morning Curtis household!" Two-Bit announced at with unnecessary volume. "How are we doing on this fine morning?"

"Can you keep it down Two-Bit?" Pony asked. "Can't you see that Soda doesn't feel good?"

Steve hurried over to me and looked worried. "What's wrong buddy?"

"I'm fine." I pushed Steve's hand off my shoulder. "Let's just go to work, okay?" I know I told Steve I'm okay now, but if I knew my best friend like I think I did, he would have a long talk with me once we got to the DX.

"Ain't you got school today?" Two-Bit asked Steve.

Steve chortled. "I'm takin' the first four periods off to do a shift. 'Sides , what's at school to learn?"

"If you say so Steve-O," Two joked and took a swing at him. "But don't be cryin' when the day comes that I'm smarter than you."

Steve scoffed and easily deflected the swing. "That day won't come for a _very_ long time."

I smiled and observed my friends and brothers getting along so well. Darry making breakfast for everyone. Steve eating our chocolate cake. Two-Bit watching Mickey on the TV. Ponyboy scrambling to get his school books together. It was all so natural. Just the way things used to be before everything changed.

Seeing them bounce back from the recent events never ceases to amaze me. Anyone else would have cracked under the pressure but not my buddies. They were a tough group of guys. I was proud to call them my friends. Watching them all interact made me forget about my pains that felt like my chest was caving in. I knew they would always be there for me, no matter how bad the circumstances.

Looking back now, I thought I had everything figured out. I never knew how bad things would get for me. But I'm glad to have my family always standing behind me.


	2. Chapter 2

-Sodapop's POV-

"What's a matter with you?" Steve asked me, once we got to the DX. "Are you-"

"I'm fine." I cut him off quickly.

"You better cut that shit with me Sodapop." Steve walked over to the counter where I was sitting behind and looked me straight in the eye. "You ain't fine. You're my best buddy and I know when you ain't feelin' yourself. You're as pale as a ghost and you have those dark circles under your eyes. Is the kid keepin' you up again?"

"No Steve it's not his fault. I just haven't been feeling well lately."

"How do ya feel? You think you're sick?"

"My chest is killing me," I said, bringing a hand up to my chest and wincing as another sharp pain attacked me. "I've been having these coughing attacks that have kept me from getting any sleep. That's why I look so bad. My heart feels like it's beating all weird too."

"No wonder you look like hell! You gonna go to see a doc?"

"Darry's taking me to see one after work."

"Good. I can't have my best friend feeling so lousy." Steve clapped me on the back and headed back out to the garage.

XxXxXxXxXx

I couldn't have been happier when I saw our old blue truck pull up to the DX. I said goodbye to Steve and sidled next to Darry.

"How was work?" He asked me once he started to pull away. "Any more coughing?"

"I had some but I pushed through." I said.

Darry smiled at me and drove the rest of the way in silence. Usually I hate silence, but I wasn't up to any talking. I also hated going to the doctor.

Darry arrived quickly to the office and signed me in. He helped me sit down and put a reassuring hand on my shoulder. I was glad he helped me to a chair because I was starting to feel real lightheaded.

"Everything will be alright Pepsi-Cola," Darry assured me. "I'm sure it's nothing, but I just want to be cautious."

"Sodapop Curtis?" A young nurse called my name, and Darry and I walked down the hallway to the exam room. She took my blood pressure, heart rate and temperature, made some notes on her chart and left the room for the doctor to come and examine me.

A brisk knock on the door came quickly and the doctor entered the room. "Good afternoon, gentlemen. I'm Doctor Roberts." He shook both me and Darry's hand. "So I see here that you are not feeling well Mr. Curtis. What are your symptoms?"

"Well, I've been having these coughing fits lately, chest pain and my heart feels like it flutters sometimes," I answered.

Darry's blue eyes looked up at me with concern. I felt bad that I kept him in the dark about how bad my symptoms were.

"I read that you're heart rate is rather concerning. When the nurse took it she reported arrhythmias, which is abnormal rhythm in the heartbeat. I'm going to take it again myself to check again," Dr. Roberts reported.

He placed two fingers on my wrist and took my pulse. When the minute was up, he made more notes on my chart and looked up at us.

"I'm sorry Sodapop. When I took your pulse again I too noticed the arrhythmias in your heart. In addition, to that and your other symptoms, I'm afraid there is nothing I can do for you."

"Nothing you can do?" Darry leapt out of his chair in anger. "What do you mean there is nothing you can do? My brother is sick, you have to help him!"

"Calm down, Mr. Curtis," Doctor Roberts said. "I'm sorry I misspoke. I have full intentions of helping your brother get better, but I'm afraid I have limited resources here. I recommend you taking Sodapop to a cardiologist down at Tulsa General Hospital. His name is Doctor Wilson and he's excellent at what he does."

Darry regained his composure and ran a calloused hand through his hair. "Ok, I will. Thank you very much Doctor."

"Of course." Dr. Roberts shook Darry's hand again as he made his way to the door. "I'm going to give Doctor Wilson a call personally to see if there is anything that he can do to get you in quicker. Sodapop shouldn't have to wait with the severity of his symptoms."

How severe were my symptoms? I didn't feel great, but I didn't think I was sick enough to have to go to the cardiologist. I thought this doctor would tell me I had the flu and give me a prescription to make me feel better. I never thought I would be sick enough to go to the hospital.

The rest of my motions felt mechanic. Leaving the doctor's office, getting in the truck, driving home. I didn't speak until Darry pulled the truck into the driveway. The lights of house were glowing and I could see the silhouette of Ponyboy in the living room. I dreaded the thought of having to tell him I had to go to the hospital.

"Darry," I whispered. My heart was starting to pound. I wasn't sure if it was because I was anxious or my heart was acting weird. "What's wrong with me?"

"I don't know little buddy. I wish I did. But whatever it is, we'll get through it."

I wish I believed him.

 **Author's Note: Okay, any guesses to what's wrong with Soda? Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I am having so much trouble responding to reviews! They are not showing up with my story, but I'm able to see them in my email. Does anybody know why? Every time I try to respond to a review, it says that it is no longer available. But please know that I have read everybody's comments and greatly appreciate them!**

-Ponyboy's POV-

When I heard Darry's truck pull into the driveway, I felt so relieved. I spent my whole day worrying about Soda was feeling. Did he have any more coughing attacks? Or chest pain? He looked terrible when he left for work. I hoped the doctor gave him some medicine to feel better.

Darry entered the house first, with Soda behind him. Soda had his head down low and took a seat down on the couch. My stomach felt like it hit the floor. I knew something wasn't right.

"Well?" I asked. I couldn't stand the nervous looks between the two of them anymore. "What's wrong with Soda?"

Both of them didn't answer my question. Darry simply sat down on the couch next to me, so that I was sandwiched in between my two brothers.

"Ponyboy," Darry finally spoke up. "Soda is sicker than we thought. He has to go to the hospital to see a cardiologist. They think there's something wrong with his heart."

The hospital? Soda's heart? He was always a ball of energy, never sitting still, and the doctors think he has a heart problem? With all that has happened this year, I just couldn't have Soda sick. He was my last confidant left and I couldn't live if something was wrong with him. Darry and I have been getting along real good now, but Soda was like my other half.

"When does he go to the hospital?" I asked, when I finally thought of something to say.

"We're hopin' as soon as we can," Darry answered. "The doc we saw today is trying to fit Soda in." He let that thought hang in the air for a moment before he spoke again. "Anyone hungry?"

"I started some pasta." I was hungry when I got home from school, but now that I learned that Soda was really sick, I didn't have much of an appetite anymore.

"Thanks Pone," Soda finally said. He ruffled my hair affectionately, but I could see in his eyes that he wasn't feeling well. He was trying to mask his pain.

The three of us got up off the couch and headed into the kitchen and tried to eat something, even though none of us was hungry anymore.

XxXxXxXxXx

I awoke the next morning with Soda's heavy arm draped over my body. Darry was shaking me awake.

"Hey Pony, Sodapop, it's time to get up. We got a busy day today. Pony's got school and Soda's going to the hospital."

"They got me in already?" Soda asked, only half awake.

"Yeah little buddy. Dr. Roberts pulled some major strings and managed to fit you in at four o'clock."

"So you'll pick me up after work?"

"Work? I don't think you're going to work today."

"But Darry," Soda tried to protest. "I have to work! How are we supposed to afford the bills?"

"That's for me to take care of. Your job now is to focus on getting better so when you're ready, you can go back to work."

"Hey Darry?" I interrupted. "Do you think I can come with you to Soda's appointment? I'd really like to be there for him."

"I think I can make that happen," Darry answered, much to my delight.

XxXxXxXxXx

I didn't focus on anything at school today. I tried, really I did, but how could anyone expect me to attempt to solve a trigonometry problem when my brother was sick?

I smiled when I saw our truck pull up in front of school, signaling the end of another school day. When I scooted in next to Soda, he tried to give me a smile, but failed. I knew my brother was trying to put on a brave face for us, but I saw right through his façade.

Darry pulled into the truck into the hospital parking lot and turned it off. He got out first before Soda and had to help him slide out of the truck. Soda kept a tight grip on Darry's shoulder and leaned his weight onto him. He was feeling really dizzy.

Darry got him settled in the waiting room and went to sign him in. I took Soda's hand in mine, which he gratefully accepted, and leaned his head back against the wall. The clock droned on. It was probably only half an hour, but it felt like we were waiting forever until the nurse called Soda's name.

She led us back into the exam room, took Soda's vitals, and left to get the doctor, which he arrived shortly.

"How are we doing today boys?" He asked us, and greeted us all with a handshake. "I'm Doctor Wilson. I see that Sodapop is a patient of Doctor Roberts?"

"That's right," Darry answered. "We were at his office last night and because of the severity of Soda's symptoms, he recommend that we see you as soon as we could. Thank you for fitting us in on such short notice."

"Mhmm." Dr. Wilson nodded to himself and flipped through Soda's chart. "So, Soda reported having symptoms of chest pain, irregular heartbeat, coughing, and dizziness I presume?"

Soda simply nodded, too exhausted to do anything else.

Dr. Wilson moved closer to Soda and took his pulse again, used his stethoscope to listen to Soda's lungs, and had him cough a few times before reporting his findings to us.

"I have a slight idea of what Sodapop may have, but I need him to have some tests done before I can complete my diagnosis. I'm sending him down to take a chest x-ray and I would also like him to have an electrocardiogram, or ECG for short. What that will do is it tell me if Soda has any abnormal heart rhythms. Are you understanding all of this?"

We nodded in complete silence. We were all too stunned to talk. I didn't like hearing the words  
"abnormal" and "Soda" in the same sentence.

The same nurse who did Soda's vitals came in to take him downstairs to x-rays and the other test.

"Can my brothers come with me please?" He asked.

"I'm sorry dear," She said. "I'm afraid they will have to stay here, but your tests won't hurt. I'll have you back before no time." The nurse put Soda in a wheelchair and wheeled him in the direction of the elevators. I hated to see Soda so helpless.

Darry saw the look of concern on my face and hugged me around the shoulders. "Soda's a tough kid y'know. Whatever condition he may have, we can get through together. As a family."

Darry's comforting words echoed throughout my head. Darry was right. Soda's always been there for us, so now it was our turn to be there for him. As I was thinking, I felt myself slip into a deep sleep.

When I woke up again, I wondered how long I was out. Soda was back in the room, looking even more tired than I was. Now that I thought about it, Soda wasn't as active as he used to be. More often than not, he would take a nap after his shift at the DX.

Doctor Wilson entered the room and shut the door firmly behind him. He didn't say anything yet, but simply sat down in his chair and wheeled over next to us. He studied each of our faces carefully. It was then that he said the words that would forever change our lives.

"I've reviewed Sodapop's file quite carefully, and I'm afraid my gut feeling was right. With the addition of his symptoms and his test results, I'm sorry to report that there is only one diagnosis I can give you."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I am not a doctor, so I will try my best to write about Soda's condition. I have done a lot of research on this topic and will continue too, so I can write the best possible story I can! Please read and review!**

-Sodapop's POV-

"I'm sorry I have to tell you boys this bad news, but Sodapop has hypertrophic cardiomyopathy." Doctor Wilson said.

It was as if all the air in the room has suddenly been sucked out. I had _what?_ I wish we could go back a few days and when I thought I had the flu and not some weird disease that I never heard of.

"Can you explain what that means exactly Doctor?" Darry asked. I was glad he spoke up, because it felt like my voice was being strangled. I looked over at Ponyboy next to me, who had tears brimming in his eyes.

"Hypertrophic cardiomyopathy is a type of disease that involves an abnormal thickening of the heart, which makes it so hard to pump blood around the rest of your body."

"What could have caused this?" Darry asked again. "Was there anything we could have done to prevent this from happening?"

"I'm afraid not," The Dr. answered. "Often times, the cause of cardiomyopathy is unknown. Or it could be genetic, but since you don't have any past family members with this disease, I hate to tell you but unfortunately Soda's cause will remain unknown."

"How do we treat this? Is my brother gonna get worse?" Pony asked.

"I have to say so. I will prescribe him medications to slow the pumping of his heart and there is a surgery we can perform to alleviate some of his symptoms, but because of how severe his condition is, Sodapop may go into heart failure if he is left untreated. But I assure you, I will do everything in my power to make sure he doesn't get to that point."

Heart failure? Isn't that when your heart stops and doctor's rush in to your room and put metal paddles on your chest to get in beating again? I thought that was only for old people! I'm only seventeen. I think I'm a pretty healthy guy. I eat okay and exercise. Sure I've smoked a few times, but I know of a lot of other people who smoke way more than me and they're in perfect health. How could my heart be failing me already?

Dr. Roberts recognized how much information he just dumped on us and stepped back out to give some alone time, but I barely heard him. It felt as if the walls were caving in on me and the only thing I could think about was getting out of that room.

"Dare, I got to, I got-" I didn't even finish my sentence before I bolted out of the room. My heart was pounding and my vision was spotting, but I pushed through until I reached the exit of the hospital. I felt as if I might be sick, but I sat down on a bench outside and my stomach calmed down when the cool night air hit my face.

I finally let my walls crumble down and began to cry. I didn't like to be the bawl baby in the family, but after I was told I could go into heart failure, how was I supposed to react? I buried my head in my hands and let the tears fall down my face.

So many bad things have happened to me at the hospital. Mom died. Dad died. Johnny died. Ponyboy had to stay here after the events in Windrixville. Now I was told that I had a disease that could cause me to have heart surgery or worse. How could so many bad things happen to us in such a short amount of time?

-Darry's POV-

Was I hearing the doctor correctly? His words rung through my head and invaded my thoughts. Severe. Surgery. Heart failure. Soda was so sick he sick he might die. This wasn't even the worst of it too. He was only going to go downhill from here.

After Dr. Roberts left, Soda jumped up and ran outside. I didn't blame him. I wanted to run outside and cry, but I was Darrel Curtis and I didn't cry. I am the strong one.

Ponyboy looked at me and his whole face crumbled. "What's going to happen to Soda? Please Darry, we can't lose him too."

"We're not going too." I ran my fingers through his soft hair. "I'll never let that happen. Let's go see where Soda went."

Ponyboy wiped at his eyes and followed me down the hall. Soda didn't tell us where he was going, but somehow I knew where he went. He needed some air.

Sure enough, Soda was sitting was sitting on a bench outside the hospital with his head buried in his hands. I could tell he had been crying.

"Hey Pepsi-Cola," I said softly. I sat down next to him and Pony sat on the other side and I pulled him in close to my chest. He buried his head into my t-shirt and I could feel his tears soaking through. "Me and Ponyboy, we are going to get you through this."

He looked up at me with red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks. "I don't want to die Darry. I'm scared. Real, real scared."

"It's alright if you're scared Soda," Ponyboy said. "I'm scared too, but that's normal. The doctors will give you medicine to help you. It's not a death sentence. I know it looks bad now, but we've been through much worse and came out on the other side. If anyone can get through this it's you."

"Thanks Pone," Soda tried to smile at him and wiped some of the tears off his face. "Should we go back in now?"

"Yeah, we don't want Dr. Wilson thinkin' we skipped out on him," I said, attempting to lighten the mood, but it didn't go over as well as I would have liked.

We all stood up wordlessly and headed back to Soda's room and our doctor spotted us when we came back in.

"Welcome back boys," He said, closing the door behind him once again. "I'm sorry I threw so much information at you, but I'm afraid it was rather necessary. As for Sodapop's treatment, I would like him to start oxygen therapy. Soda will become very short of breath in the coming weeks, so I'd like him to be prepared. Unfortunately, that means Soda will have to have an oxygen tank with him at all times. It will greatly improve his quality of life and hopefully postpone surgery for as long as we can."

I hated myself for thinking this, but this question was nagging at the back of my mind ever since Soda was diagnosed. "How much will this process cost?"

"I understand your financial status and the hospital has a medical program that we can set up for you, which will be in your favor."

I didn't like to accept handouts from anyone, but this was a different circumstance. I had to set my pride aside for the sake of Soda's life. "Ok, thank you doctor. When can Soda get oxygen therapy?"

"He can come in as soon as tomorrow. The sooner we can get him started, the better. That shouldn't take much time at all. We will explain all the instructions to you and then you'll be on your way. Have a good evening." And with that, he left us alone.

Soda didn't say anything the whole time, just kept his head down at the floor and tried his best not to collapse into another puddle of tears.

When my parents died, I made a promise to myself that I would never let anything bad happen to my brothers again, but I already feel like I failed miserably. I couldn't change the past, but I would make sure I changed the future.


	5. Chapter 5

-Steve's POV-

When I came home from my shift at the DX, I was greeted with the unpleasant surprise of my father passed out drunk on the couch. I didn't need that tonight, so I left the old bastard lyin' there and headed down to the only place that I call home. The Curtis house.

Darry's truck still wasn't in the driveway when I got there, but then I remembered that they took Soda to the hospital. I hoped it wasn't nothing too serious.

About twenty minutes later, I heard the truck door open and slam shut. Darry walked in first, practically dragging Soda behind him. Soda was shuffling his feet and Pony kept a firm grip on his arm. I could tell that both brothers had been crying and my hopes of Soda having something not serious hit the floor.

Pony and Soda headed down to their bedroom and closed the door. I really wanted to ask my buddy what had happened, but he looked so tired he was almost sleepwalking.

"Darry what's goin' on?" I asked.

He shook his head and said, "Later." He too went to the bedroom and shut the door behind him.

It must've been one hell of a night.

XxXxXxXxXx

The next morning, Two-Bit had joined us for breakfast and was uncharacteristically quiet. He too had sensed the severity of the mood.

"Could somebody tell me what the hell is going on?" I was sick and tired of not having any answers.

"Steve, Two-Bit," Darry started. "Soda has been diagnosed with a heart condition called hypertrophic cardiomyopathy."

I looked over at Two-Bit and his gray eyes turned stormy. I didn't know what that meant, but I could tell it was gonna be anything good.

Darry continued. "Soda's heart muscle is too thick which is what has been causing his symptoms. He's gonna need to take it easy for a while. He's startin' this thing today called oxygen therapy, which will help him breathe better and hopefully stop the coughing and pain. But that also means that he will need to carry around an oxygen tank with him at all times."

I feel like someone just punched me in the stomach. Yeah, Soda didn't look well, but he didn't look this sick to me. Soda couldn't do anything anymore if he had to carry oxygen. No more work or drag races or rumbles or dances.

What would happen to my best friend?

-Sodapop's POV-

When I woke, I heard the muffled voices of my brothers and friends coming from the kitchen. I figured they were explaining my condition. I'm glad they did it. Just imagining the thoughts on their faces was enough to make me nauseas.

I crept down the hall and into the bathroom to take my morning shower. Looking at myself in the mirror, I gasped. I really did look like shit. My eyes were swollen and red and my pale face was drawn. I barely recognized myself.

I finished my shower and walked into the kitchen to find four boys and eight eyes staring at me like they were waiting for me to pass out or something.

"Mornin'," I said, trying to break the ice. I got nothing in return.

"Would ya'll quit starin' at me? I'll be fine." My chest gave a spasm and I launched into another cough attack, contradicting what I just said. Last night I had tried to convince myself that maybe I would be okay without the oxygen, but once again I was proven wrong.

"Sorry Soda, we're just worried 'bout you." Two-Bit spoke up. "We want you to know that we'll be there for you, no matter what."

"Thanks guys," I said. Even if all else failed me, I'd still have my family to back me up.

Steve suddenly jumped out of his chair and hurried out to the porch. I could see him through the window lighting up a cigarette and pacing back and forth.

"Give 'im a second," Darry said, seeing my concern. "He just needs time to process."

I nodded glumly. "Yeah, alright." I felt bad that my friends were stressed about me. "We still goin' to get the oxygen today Dare?"

"Yep." Darry answered, serving me a slice of chocolate cake. "I'll swing by the house on my lunch break. The doc said it wouldn't take too long."

"Thank you," I said, stabbing at cake. I hadn't eaten anything in almost twenty-four hours.

"No need to thank me little buddy." Darry ruffled my hair and headed off to work.

XxXxXxXxXx

"Okay Sodapop," Dr. Wilson instructed. "What you will need to do is take this plastic tubing, which is called a nasal cannula, and place it in your nostrils."

He gave it to me to put on. There was already oxygen flowing through it which tickled my nose.

"The next step is to thread the cannula behind your ears and adjust it so it lays comfortably on your face and that's it. A piece of cake." Dr. Wilson continued. "I'll be setting Soda on a medium flow oxygen setting for now. Please don't adjust it on your own. If you feel that his tank should be higher or lower, come back and see me. What's nice about Soda's oxygen tank is that you only have to change his tank once a day."

He proceed to explain more to Darry and I bit back a laugh. What could possibly be nice about this oxygen tank? I'd have to carry it around from now on and always have to have it by my side. But, I have to admit that just having the oxygen for a few minutes was greatly improving my breathing. It didn't feel like I was breathing through a straw anymore.

"Did you get all of that boys?" Dr. Wilson asked, once he was done with his spiel.

I nodded, even though I didn't. I hoped Darry did. This was becoming way too much medical talk for me. I wasn't smart enough to understand it anyway.

"You doin' alright Soda?" Darry asked me, once Dr. Wilson left the room. "Is that making you feel better?"

"I'm feeling better. Can we go home now?"

"Yeah. I gotta be heading back to work anyway." Darry checked his watch. "We'll be cutting it pretty close."

Darry drove home a little faster than he should have, but still managed to walk me inside the house before taking off to finish his shift.

I was still getting used to carrying the tank around with me. It had wheels, which made it easier to roll around. Or I could have carried it like a backpack, but that remind me too much of when I was back in school.

I had to use the bathroom, so I was forced to roll the tank behind me. Our bathroom was pretty small to begin with, and there was hardly any room left.

Once I was done, I felt black spots clouding my vision. I wasn't used to feeling so run down all the time or being home when no one else was. I felt my eyelids grow heavy and wished that anyone was here to keep me company.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Should I continue this story? Review please!**

-Ponyboy's POV-

I walked home from school kicking at rocks that weren't there. I felt so bad for Soda that my own heart hurt.

I was glad that I had a pack on me and started to smoke a cigarette. The smoke was calming me down a little, but it started to get my thoughts racing.

I wished Mom and Dad were alive to take care of Soda. Momma would watch over Soda all day and make him feel better. Dad would work his fingers to the bone to make sure that he was able to pay for the treatment Soda needed.

I wished Johnny was alive so I could tell someone my problems. We would sit down at the lot, watching the sunrise and sharing our personal thoughts. I would tell him how I scared I was for Soda and he would tell me how horrible his old man was.

I wished Dally was alive so he could be part of our gang again. There would always be an empty spot in our gang where Dally used to be. Things would never be the same without him.

Stepping into the house, I noticed Soda was asleep on the couch. He had a thin, plastic tube under his nose and an oxygen tank stuffed into a backpack next to him. That must've been the oxygen therapy the doctors were talking about.

It was four when I got home, Darry would be home at five, so I started to defrost a chicken and sat down at the kitchen table to do my homework.

Soda woke up twenty minutes later. He propped himself up on one elbow and accidently pulled his oxygen tubes out in the process. He fumbled with the tubing a little but eventually got it back in. This oxygen thing would take a while for him to get accustomed to.

"Is Dare home yet?" Soda slurred.

"Not for another half hour," I replied, rummaging in the pantry for some sides to go with the chicken. We were really running low on food ever since Soda got sick.

"Mhmm, okay," Soda said. He sat up fully now and tried to get himself off the couch. He stood up, swayed on his feet and grabbed the arm the couch as he fell back down.

"Soda!" I ran towards my brother. "Are you dizzy?"

"I'm fine."

"If you're not feelin' well, then tell one of us so we can help you."

"I'm not helpless. I can do things by myself," Soda snapped at me. I've never seen this side to him before. He looked up at my eyes and saw the hurt in them. "Hey I'm sorry I was short with you kiddo. I didn't mean to be. It's just that this is a huge change for me and it's been hard on me. I hate the fact that I have to carry this stupid thing around now. Please don't be mad at me." Soda gave a weak kick at his tank.

"I'm not mad at you Soda. I could never be mad at you. I'm sorry you have another obstacle to go through now. You deserve this least of all. But your condition isn't permanent."

Soda smiled sadly and took my hand in his. It was icy cold and had a blue tint to them. Had Soda's hands always been this cold?

"C'mon, help me up," Soda ordered me. I grabbed his other hand in mine and pulled him up. He wheeled his tank behind him and joined me at the kitchen table and watched me do my homework.

"You want me to check that math for ya Pone?" Soda joked. I was glad to see that a little of his personality was back.

"I think I'll wait for Darry." As if on cue, Darry walked through the front door. He set his tool belt down on the table and wandered over to the source of the food.

"Chicken for dinner?" He asked. "It smells good."

"Thanks," I replied, carving it up and serving it to my brothers. I had managed to find a box of instant mashed potatoes, so I served that to them as well. After I gave them their meal, I realized I forgot to get them utensils.

"I'll get the forks," Soda said, reading my mind. He looked unsteady on his feet, but after the talk we had before, I decided I should let him go to get the forks. It was only in the drawer across the kitchen.

The next thing that happened seemed to go in slow motion. Soda stopped for a second, put his hand to his heart and crumpled to the floor. It grimly reminded me of the way Dally had collapsed under the street light.

My own heart skipped a beat and rushed over to my sick brother. Darry beat me there by a spilt second, his eyebrows knitted with concern. He took Soda's head in his big hand and carefully stroked his thumb against Soda's cheekbone. "Hey Pepsi," he whispered. Then he looked up at me with fear in his eyes. I don't know what scared me more; Darry's fear or Soda unconscious.

Soda came around a second later and his brown eyes wandered up to meet my green ones. "How did I get on the floor?" He mumbled.

"You passed out little buddy," Darry answered. "Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm okay now," Soda spoke, slightly incoherently. "I just got a little dizzy." He tried to get up but Darry pushed him back done.

"Stay down Soda. I'm gonna give Dr. Wilson a call. Ponyboy," Darry pointed at me. "Don't let him get up."

Soda obeyed Darry and didn't say anything more while Darry was on the phone. We were both straining to hear what he was telling the doctor.

Darry returned a second later. "The doc said you probably passed out because of low blood pressure. It's fairly common for people with your condition. He made an appointment for you for next week though, just to be safe. You think you can get up now?"

"Yeah I'll get up," Soda mumbled.

Darry gripped both of Soda's hands like I just did before him, and helped back over to the kitchen table.

At least one crisis was averted tonight.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: This chapter is sort of a filler for what is to come. I promise the story will pick up in the next chapters! Thank you to all the readers, reviewers and followers!**

-Soda's POV-

The next two weeks before my meeting with Dr. Wilson were some of the longest weeks of my life. Even longer than when Pony was missing. These days just dragged on because Darry didn't let me do _anything._ Ever since I passed out during dinner earlier this week, both my brothers kept me on a short leash. The only thing I was allowed to do was sit on the couch and watch TV. I was never a big TV watcher like Pony, but it was the only thing I was permitted to do. I was so bored I even thumbed through one of Pony's books. Or if I wanted to be surrounded by a new set of four colorless walls, I could venture into the bathroom. Other than that, I did nothing this week, and if you're anything like me, that's a hard task to complete.

I was finally relieved from my boredom when Ponyboy came home with Two-Bit trailing behind.

"Hey buddy," I exclaimed, excited to see a person that wasn't one of my brothers or on the TV screen. "How ya been?"

"I have bad news," He started, but I could tell from his tone that he was setting up a joke. "I talked to the principal today and he's forcing me to senior year. He said he's never had anyone be a nineteen year old junior. I told him that I _just_ turned nineteen, but that didn't change his mind."

"Only you Two-Bit would actually try to stay in school," I replied.

"What can I say," He said, going to our fridge for a beer. "I'm one of a kind."

"That you are," I agreed.

The three of us talked and joked around and even played a few hands of poker, until I felt my eyelids pulling down, begging for sleep. I was irritated with how tired I was all the time. I couldn't even stay awake long enough to sit with my friends. I tried to hide my fatigue, but Ponyboy noticed.

"Why don't we stop," He suggested. "I'll start on dinner."

I leaned back on the couch, sleep coming over me like a tidal wave. The last thing I remember before I drifted off was Pony covering me in a blanket.

I dozed for about an hour, until Darry came home and Two-Bit left for his own family. Darry had the same routine every day. Even though I still had my eyes closed, I knew what he was doing. He would remove his muddy work boots, place his tool belt next to the couch and head into the kitchen for a glass of water. He did his typical routine and knelt next to me.

"Hey Sodapop." He gently shook my shoulder. "I know you're awake. It's time for somethin' to eat."

I groaned. I didn't have much of an appetite. Just put my loss of appetite on a long list of things this stupid cardiomyopathy disease took away from me. Usually I could eat a horse, but ever since I've been diagnosed, I haven't been eating much of anything anymore. I'm sure Darry noticed. My clothes have been fitting looser on me. I reminded myself of how Ponyboy and thin he got after the deaths of Johnny and Dallas.

Ponyboy brought me a grilled cheese sandwich and a cup of tomato soup. We have started to eat on the couch, mostly because Darry was worried that I'd pass out again if I walked the ten feet to the kitchen table.

"How was school Ponyboy?" I broke the conversation.

"School was fine. I got an A on my history test," He said. "Track was fun though. Coach says I have a good chance of making it to State."

"That's great Pony!" Darry praised. "I would love to come to one of your meets, if my boss ever lets me have an afternoon off."

I was so glad my brothers were finally getting along. It was what I have always wanted.

XxXxXxXxX

Riding to the hospital was being way too familiar of a routine for me. I dreaded the thought of going to yet _another_ doctor's appointment. I flipped through the truck's radio stations just for a change of pace.

"Anything on your mind?" Darry noticed my apprehension.

"Nothin' in particular."

"Soda," Darry pressed on. "You know you can tell me anything."

"What if," I started to disclose one of my deepest fears to Darry, but decided to take a moment to think about what I was saying. "What if my heart got worse? What is oxygen therapy isn't working the way it should?"

Darry sighed. "I don't know. I wish I could tell you what would happen, but I can't. But I can tell you that Ponyboy, Steve, Two-Bit and I will always stick with you no matter what. We're your buddies, no matter the circumstances. And if your heart did get worse, we will deal with it. We love you Soda, and we want to help you."

"Thanks Darry," I said. Just saying the word "thanks," felt pretty lame to me after the kind speech he gave to me, but it was the only word I could think of.

Darry pulled the truck into the hospital parking lot and repeated the schedule that we've had to do three times in two weeks. Sign in, wait, head back to the exam room, and do some more waiting for the doctor. I don't think I've been to the doctor three times in a year, let alone a week.

"Hello Sodapop and Darry," Dr. Wilson greeted. "How have you been doing with the oxygen therapy? Have you observed any improvements?"

"Well, I noticed my breathing has been better and my coughing has decreased. That's always good."

"Yes that is always good," Dr. Wilson agreed. "But I heard that you fainted on Monday and had some dizziness. That could be caused from low blood pressure, or I'd hate to alarm you, but it could be something worse. I'm going to have you repeat the tests you had done when you were first diagnosed. I want to compare the results from then to now. A nurse will be here soon to take you down for your tests. Any questions?"

I shook my head no. I've been an optimist my whole life, but looking for the positives now was becoming an impossible task when all I was being given was negatives. Why couldn't I catch a break?


	8. Chapter 8

-Darry's POV-

Dr. Wilson's words rang through my head and shook every bone in my body. I thought Soda was improving. I thought he was getting better. I thought he had a chance of beating this disease that a seventeen year old shouldn't even have. Boy, was I wrong.

" _I'm really sorry to report this news," Dr. Wilson started and the look on his face said it all. This wasn't going to be good. "Soda's test results came back with no change. In fact," He held up Soda's x-ray from weeks ago to compare it to todays. "I'm afraid he actually got worse. The muscle around his heart thickened a significant amount. I would like to keep Soda on the oxygen therapy for now, however, the only way he will get better is with surgery."_

The doctor continued his speech, but that's all I remember hearing. I made a mental note to myself to call him tomorrow to repeat the details of Soda's upcoming surgery. I didn't like this to be one of my concerns right now, but I hoped the medical program the hospital put us in would help with some of the expenses of the surgery. We were just scraping by as it without Soda's paycheck. Without Soda's knowledge, Steve has been giving me some of his paycheck. Taking handouts from my friends went against my beliefs, but my brother's health was more important than my pride.

I looked over at my defeated looking brother. He rested his elbow on the side of the truck and kept his eyes closed, so the tears swimming in his eyes wouldn't spill over. He wore that oxygen tubing under his nose, but who knows if it's even doing any good anymore. His face was whiter than a ghost and gaunt and he lost all his muscle tone that he worked so hard to achieve, but he was still the most positive person I know. After everything life has thrown at us, I was amazed at his ability to keep on smiling. It was what made Soda the Soda we all know and love. But now, he looked so defeated, and there was nothing I could do to help.

XxXxXxXxX

Telling Ponyboy about the details of Soda's surgery was one of the hardest things I had to do, besides telling him that Mom and Dad died. It was harder than when I had to tell him that Soda, his idol, was seriously sick, because at least than, there was a glimmer of hope. But now, now there was nothing. I hated always being the bearer of bad news, but I was the oldest and that responsibility fell on my shoulders.

Pony didn't say anything at first, just stood up and wrapped his lanky arms around Soda's shoulders. He tried his best to keep his tears in, but when Soda began to cry, Pony started with him.

"Wh-What's gonna happen to Soda?" Pony mumbled through his tears.

"He's going to have the surgery and he'll get better. Soda's going to get better Pony. He's always been a fighter."

"Okay, okay." Pony wiped his tears with the back of his hands and forced himself to stop crying. Soda did the same.

"We'll be alright. This is just another bump in the road," I said. Just one more bump on one long, windy, rocky road that we were on.

-Two-Bit's POV-

I strolled into the Curtis house and immediately could tell that something wasn't right. Soda and Pony were hugging each other, with traces of tears on their peaked faces, and Darry was resting in his recliner with a far-off look to his eyes. This could only mean one thing. More bad news.

"What's going on Curtis boys?"

"Soda's gonna need surgery to fix his heart," Pony answered, his words slurring together so it sound like one word.

Damn. That was rough. But Soda's tuff. He'll do alright. "Hey, what's with all the gloomy faces? The doctor will fix Soda's heart and he'll be wrestlin' with me and Steve in no time. Ain't that right buddy?" I nudged Soda on the shoulder, which got him to smile a little.

"That's right," Soda agreed. I started to see a faint smile tug at his lips.

"Well, are we going to let this perfectly good night go to waste or are we going to do something?" I asked.

"What's there to do?" Soda gestured to that oxygen tank he has to carry around from now on. "It ain't like I can go to a drag race or somethin' with this."

"Who said we need to leave the house to have a good time?" I said. "There's plenty of fun things we can do here. We could watch a movie or play some cards or I could bake you a cake."

"You bake a cake?" Soda laughed. "I'll pass on that, but I am up for a few game of cards."

We headed to the kitchen and played a couple of games of gin rummy. Soda was up to his typical antics and tried to cheat, but Darry caught him. Ponyboy won most of the games. I'll have to keep my eye on the kid, he's been getting pretty good at cards. Even Steve came over for a while.

The five of us played cards for an hour, until the rumble of Pony's stomach served as a reminder that they skipped dinner.

"How 'bout we order a pizza?" I suggested.

"I don't know," Darry started. I knew finances were very tight around their house lately and he didn't want to buy anything unnecessary.

"Pizza's on me," I said. I had some extra cash this week (don't ask me where I got it) and decided the Curtis's needed a treat. Besides, I always get free food at their house.

This was nice, our little slice of normality, and Heaven knows after all the shit we dealt with it was nice to experience some normal. Moments like this, hanging out with my best buddies, playing card games, eating pizza, were some of the best moments in the world. We didn't need much. We had each other.


	9. Chapter 9

-Darry's POV-

"Okay, thank you very much Doctor. Goodbye." I put the phone back on the receiver and rested my head on the doorjamb. Dr. Wilson was kind enough to go over the details of Soda's surgery with me again, and managed to schedule it for the beginning of next week. Soda was considered to be a priority patient. I really appreciated all the strings our doctor was pulling for us, but sometimes the stress of everything at once was hard to handle. First Mom and Dad, then Johnny and Dally. Ponyboy just started to bounce back from all those losses, but now Soda was sick, there was a chance he could die. Who would be next? Steve? Two-Bit? Or even me? I've come to realize that none of us were indestructible. No. I couldn't think like that when my family needed me. I forced myself to focus on what I could still help.

The surgery that Soda is having will remove some of the thickened muscle that separates his two heart chambers. By doing that, it will hopefully improve his blood flow through his heart. I really, _really_ hoped that this surgery would do some good for Soda.

I saw how Soda was declining. He was wasting away before my eyes and every time I saw him it was like someone punched me in the gut. He hardly ate anymore, which made him loose all of his muscle tone. His face was a permanent shade of ivory and sunken in, which made his cheekbones look so sharp that they could cut glass. All he did was sleep, and if he wasn't doing that, he was either in the bathroom or pushing food around on his dinner plate. It was so unlike Soda to sleep all day. I was still getting used to it.

I've never really been a religious man, but I started to pray to anyone who was listening. _Please, just make Soda better. That's all I want. He doesn't deserve this. I couldn't live with myself knowing if something happened to him. He's only seventeen. Just a kid who loves life and hardly had a chance to live it yet. He is compassionate and understanding and he lights up the room with just a smile. I don't want to live in a world without Sodapop Curtis. We can't lose him too. If we did, none of us will ever recover. He's the glue that keeps us together. Please, just make Soda better._

I finished my prayer with an agenda on my mind. I had to get out, get some air, and I knew where I needed to go.

Two-Bit had taken Ponyboy to a movie, so it was just Soda and I in the house. I checked on him before I left, he was curled up sleeping, and doubted he would wake up before I came back. Even before he was sick, he had always been a heavy sleeper. One time when he was eight, he slept through tornado sirens and Dad had to wake him up.

I started to drive down the road, thoughts racing through my head so fast I was feeling overwhelmed. I've never been one for the radio, but I turned it on just because I needed the sound to drown out my feelings.

Pulling down that all too familiar gravel made my stomach turn. I've been down this road too many times for a man my age. One year, so many losses.

Mom and Dad were buried way in the back of the cemetery underneath a tall willow tree. I liked that they were laid to rest in the back so that when one of us came to visit them we could do it in private. We didn't need anybody looking at us.

I crouched down next to their headstones and spent a few minutes cleaning up around it. Even though there were supposed to be gardeners at the cemetery, they didn't seem to be doing a very good job. The grass was overgrown and the flowers that Soda had brought for Mom last time he came were still there. I couldn't start to talk to my parents until there resting place was clean. Mom hated when things were messy.

"Mom," I started to whisper, but then I felt foolish because there was no one else around to hear me. "Soda's sick Mom. Real sick. He needs surgery on his heart. Please watch over him during his surgery. He will need all the help he can get to make it through." I paused for a moment and my heart ached when there was no reply back. "And Dad, I've been trying my best to watch over Soda and Pony. I hope you think I'm doing a good job. I ain't perfect, I know that, but I'm really trying. You taught me to protect my family, and that's what I'm going to do. I'll make you proud."

I finished my one-sided conversation and got up from that cold, hard ground that my parents were buried in. I felt something wet drip down my face. I didn't think rain was in the forecast today. No, it couldn't be because there were no clouds in the sky. It wasn't rain. I had been crying and I didn't even know. At least no one was here to see me.

The sky was getting dark. The sun was almost set. I was here longer than I thought I would be. Time gets away from you when it's just you and your thoughts.

I'm sure that Two-Bit had brought Ponyboy home and would expecting some dinner, and I'm sure they were wondering where I'd run off to. I said a quick goodbye to my parents, and stopped off to visit Johnny and Dallas before I left. It just felt wrong to leave without seeing them.

When we buried them a few months ago, we made sure to have their plots be next to one another. It was what they would have wanted. Those two were always close. I cleaned up the site of their burial and payed my respects. They were good buddies of mine and always will be.

The drive home felt shorter than it did going there. Maybe it was because I felt as if a weight has been lifted off my chest. Even though my parents were unable to respond back to me, I still found solace in talking to them. I hoped they had heard me.

I could see Pony and Two-Bit in the living room when I pulled in the driveway. Two-Bit was telling some wild story, waving his hands around and he had both of my brothers in stitches. I could always count on him to tell a good joke.

"Where were you Darry?" Soda asked me once I was in the house.

"I had some errands to run. When did you wake up Soda?"

"When Pony and Two-Bit came home from the movie house and started causin' so much noise that it woke me up. But that's okay. I've been sleeping way too much as it is."

"I started some dinner," Pony said. "Hey, are you alright Darry?"

"Yeah, I'm alright now." And for the first time this week, I actually meant it.


	10. Chapter 10

-Steve's POV-

Tomorrow was the big day. The day that Soda was going to have surgery to _hopefully_ fix his heart. His doctor didn't even guarantee that this procedure would help him, they just assumed so. If something happened to Soda, I honestly don't know what I would do. He's the only person that keeps me sane. Sure I got the gang and Evie behind me, but Soda, well he's more than just a buddy to me. He's like my brother and nobody could ever take the place of him.

I walked into my house after working the nightshift at the DX. The door was unlocked and the housed reeked of booze.

"Hey Stevie," my Dad said, his hand on the door handle was the only thing keeping him from falling over. I could tell right away that he had one too many beers. "Where've ya been?"

"You know that I work."

"You should be home more. Why're ya always out so late? You hangin' around with that Soda kid again?" He slurred.

"Don't you talk about him. I'm out late because I don't want to be here," I lashed out. I was definitely not in the mood for any of his bullshit.

"Oh yeah? Then why don't you just get the hell out!" My old man lunged at me, but his reflexes were delayed and I easily deflected him.

I headed to the kitchen first and opened the fridge door with force, making the jars on the side door fall over. I grabbed one of the beers and walked out of the house. Usually I would've said something back to my Dad, but I wasn't in the mood tonight. Besides, I'd have to see him again and he'll pull that whole 'I didn't mean a thing' act. Probably throw in a few dollars too.

I drained the beer in big gulps and hurled the bottle into the night. It watched it sail across the sky until it shattered on the sidewalk.

I headed down to the Curtis. I didn't really want to invade on their private night, but I didn't know where else to go.

Their house was quiet, eerily quiet. I was used to it being rowdy, loud and filled with boys coming and going. But it hasn't been like that in a long time. The sound of Soda coughing lulled me into a peaceful sleep.

-Soda's POV-

I woke up with a gentle shake to my shoulder. "Hey Pepsi-Cola, time to get up." That voice sounded like it belonged to Darry. Rubbing my eyes and sitting up, I realized that it was him.

"You know what we got to do today," He said. "It'll be over before you know it. A piece of cake."

We had something to do today? Oh yeah, the surgery. The surgeons were going to remove some of the muscle from my heart. That doesn't sound very much like a piece of cake to me. I wish I had a slice of my chocolate cake instead. I wasn't allowed to eat anything since last night because the surgeon had called Darry and told him I couldn't. I also couldn't shave either. I forgot why. Darry had explained it to me, but I was having trouble remembering things.

I got up and stretched, and Darry changed my oxygen tank for me. I was hoping this would be the last time I had to do this. If the surgery was successful like I was promised, I would not have to be so dependent on oxygen anymore.

The smells wafting from the kitchen made my stomach rumble. Of course the only day that I am actually hungry, I can't eat. I settled for watching Darry and Pony eat, but they only managed to eat a piece of toast while exchanging nervous glances. Even Steve, who was on the couch when I woke up, had a few bites of eggs.

"Anyone home?" Two-Bit called from the front of house. "Ya'll didn't skip town now did you?"

"We're back here," Ponyboy replied. "We are leavin' soon. Are you coming with us?"

"I couldn't miss the big day!" Two-Bit exclaimed with fake enthusiasm.

I brushed off the comment and continued my silence. I hated the silence. It was so unlike me to not have anything to say.

Darry stood up, put his plate in the sink, and started to put his shoes on. "We better start goin'. Doctor Wilson said the earlier we come, the better."

The gang obeyed wordlessly. By the way they were acting, people would think they were going to a funeral.

"C'mon guys," I started. "I know it's a big day for me, but please don't act so glum. What happened to guys? Steve, you haven't said one word to me all day and I haven't heard Two-Bit crack a joke in a week. And Pony and Darry, you don't have to look at me like I'm gonna die any second. I know I'm sick, but I don't have any plans on leaving you guys just yet."

They didn't say anything at first, just stared at me, until Pony came over and wrapped me in a hug. "I'm sorry, Soda. I just-I just can't lose you too." He buried his face into my t-shirt and I could tell he was trying to hold back tears.

"I didn't mean to not talk to you Soda," Steve piped up. "Believe me, I got plenty to tell you, but I don't want to put any more stress on you."

"And you know I got plenty of jokes," Two-Bit interjected. "I'll tell 'em to you if you want."

"Thanks guys," I said, and I truly meant it. "I just want everything to be normal again. Before I got sick, things weren't perfect, but I didn't mind. But now, well I just hate it. I hate sleeping all the time and I hate not having an appetite and I hate not being able to hang out with you guys."

"Well Pepsi-Cola," Darry finally spoke up. "I think we better get going to the hospital, where the surgeons will fix up your heart and you'll be back on your feet in no time. Everything will be back to normal soon, just you wait."

I wish what he said was true.


	11. Chapter 11

-Ponyboy's POV-

As soon as I saw the hospital sign come into view, I wanted to push down Darry's foot on the gas petal and drive far away from here. I would rather be anywhere than the hospital right now. I was in the middle spot of the truck, with Darry in the driver's seat and Soda on my right. Just like it always has been, and always should be. My legs were getting too long to sit in the middle, but right now I didn't complain. It was nice to be sandwiched in between my brothers. Two-Bit and Steve were coming along with us too, but they rode behind us in Steve's car.

Darry swung the truck into a parking space and let it idle a few seconds before shutting it off, which is something he never does. Seems like he was trying to stall for as long as he could too. Didn't last too long though, because soon enough he exited the truck and motioned for us to do the same. Soda gripped the door handle and shut his eyes like the simple movement pained him. He closed the truck door so weakly that it didn't catch and Darry had to do it again. This surgery couldn't come soon enough.

Darry checked Soda in for surgery and the nurse walked the five of us to Soda's room on the Cardiac Intensive Care Unit. She slapped a hospital band on Soda's wrist, solidifying his stay here in the hospital. She asked us some questions about Soda's previous medical history, if he was on any medications, our parent's medical history, and other information. After she was done, she made some notes on Soda's chart and left us alone in the tiny, bland room.

The room was drab, and the gang saw it. Everything in the room was a lifeless off-white color and the only piece of furniture were two plastic chairs that looked like they have been there for years. I was glad Soda wouldn't have to stay in the hospital for too long after his surgery. Otherwise, I would have brought some of his favorite drawings from home to cheer the room up.

"Hey this ain't so bad," Two-Bit said. I knew I could count on him to attempt to lighten the mood. "Think of this like a hotel. You got your own private room, and meals that are brought to you on a tray and a hot nurse who will wait on you hand and foot."

"That nurse is like thirty-five," Steve said, starting to take a whack at Two-Bit, then he remembered where he was and put his hand back at his side.

"Yeah but did you see the rack on her though?" Two-Bit brought his hands up to his chest and made an obscene gesture, which made my ears get hot and Soda crack a small smile.

"Guys," Darry bellowed. "Doctor Wilson is at the door."

Two-Bit brought his hands down and put them behind his back, just as the Dr. stepped into the room, which made Soda smile even more.

"Well Sodapop," Dr. Wilson started. "I'm glad to see that you're ready to go this morning."

"I'm ready as I'll ever be," Soda said, his smile faltering some.

"Good. I'm going to take your vitals, then in about an hour or so, a nurse will be ready to take you back for surgery." I watched as the Dr. maneuvered his way around the room, taking Soda's blood pressure, temperature and three other procedures that I wasn't sure of. He seemed satisfied enough and made a few notes on Soda's chart.

"Have you eaten anything in the past twenty four hours?" The Dr. asked.

Soda shook his head no. "I wasn't hungry anyway."

"That's to be expected. And I see by the slight appearance of beard that Darrel informed you couldn't shave this week?"

Soda nodded.

"That's just because we don't want to have any risk of blood loss before heart surgery. Everything looks good to go boys. I am expecting a smooth surgery today." Darry shook Dr. Wilson's outstretched hand and we all watched as he left the room. It felt as if all the air got sucked out of the room, and nobody knew what to say anymore.

I felt so useless. Soda has been there for me through everything. He held my hand when I was a toddler and took my first steps, he bought me an ice cream cone with his allowance after I broke my wrist, and he held me while I cried after a nightmare. But now, he was the one who needed me and all I could do for him was hold his hand and tell him everything would be alright. Soda always did so much for me, and now I felt like I was letting him down when he needed me the most.

A nurse, the same one who Two-Bit was admiring, came into the room to take Soda down to surgery. As she prepped Soda for surgery, all these horrible thoughts leapt into my head. What if something went terribly wrong? What if the surgeon damaged+ his heart even further? What if he _died?_ No. I couldn't think like that when my brother was still here, living and breathing.

Darry scooted his chair over to where he could still hold Soda's hand. "You'll be alright. Pepsi-Cola." He soothed Soda's nervous by pushing his bangs off of his forehead, which seemed to be working fairly well. Soda was the natural caretaker in our family, but Darry wasn't doing too badly.

"Come here Pony." Soda gestured for me to come closer to him. He wrapped his arms around my back and ran his fingers through my hair. "This will be over and done with soon enough. I'm sorry I'm worrying you," he whispered so softly I doubt anyone else heard but me. It amazed me how Soda, who was lying broken in a hospital bed, was worried about _me._

"I know you will," I whispered back, and wriggled out of his grip so Two-Bit and Steve could say their goodbyes, which I hoped wouldn't be permanent.

"See you later, buddy," Two-Bit patted Soda's knee and Steve did the same.

"We'll see you in a couple of hours," Steve assured.

The nurse pulled the railings up on the side of Soda's bed, and it sort of looked like he was in a crib. "I will taking Soda down to the holding room before his surgery. There, the anesthesiologist will give Soda something to relax before the actual anesthetic is administered. However, I can only allow family from this point on."

"Alright," Soda said, letting out a nervous breath. "Let's get this over with."

Two-Bit and Steve stepped out of the way, and the nurse wheeled Soda out of the room. I kept Soda's hand entangled with mine the whole way down the hallway. I wasn't sure if this was for Soda's sake or mine, but we both found comfort in the gesture. Darry was on the other side, keeping a steady hand on Soda's shoulder. He was putting up a tough front, but Soda and I weren't the only ones who were nervous.

The nurse wheeled Soda into a large room, with several other patients who were also getting prepped for surgery. A man next to Soda started talking incoherently and the nurse drew the curtain so we couldn't look at him. Was Soda going to be acting like that after surgery?

"Hello boys. I'm Dr. Burns, one of the anesthesiologists here at Tulsa General." A tall, lanky man with wavy hair pulled back the curtain and smiled at us. He looked too young to be a doctor. "I see we have um, So-da-pop, scheduled for a septal myectomy?" Darry nodded, and I followed his lead. I wasn't sure of all the medical terms, but that sounded right to me. Dr. Burns washed his hands, put on gloves, then took a vial of liquid and a syringe. "I'm going to give him a small dose of general anesthesia intravenously, just to calm him down, then we'll take him into the operating room."

Dr. Burns injected a medication into Soda's IV tube and I saw the effects of him immediately. His eyes lids started to droop and the grip he had on my hand had loosened significantly.

"Okay boys," Dr. Burns said, unlocking the brakes on Soda's bed. "I'll give you a second to say your goodbyes, then it's time to start his surgery."

Darry clutched Soda's hand and leaned in close to him. "Bye Sodapop. We'll see you soon enough. It's just like closing your eyes to take a nap." Darry gave his hand one final squeeze and stepped aside for my turn.

I stood there for a moment, taking in every feature of my brother. His chocolate colored eyes were closed, revealing the thin, blue veins over his eyelids. On his chin and jawline was a sandpapery beard, which made him look older than he really was. I felt my eyes welling up with tears and brushed them away so I wouldn't scare Soda. "I love you big brother."

He mumbled something I couldn't make out, then spoke again a little clearer. "I love you too little brother."


	12. Chapter 12

-Sodapop's POV-

As soon Dr. Burns administered the anesthetic through my IV, everything suddenly became hazy. Pony and Darry's outlines became fuzzy and started hurting my head, so I closed my eyes. I didn't like feeling not in control of my body, which was one of the reasons why I didn't like to drink alcohol. Keeping my eyes open was a seemingly impossible task, and my grip on Ponyboy's hand loosened inadvertently.

The sounds around me were floating, and I was only able to catch bits and pieces of the conversation. Darry said something about taking a nap, which didn't sound too bad right now. Ponyboy let go of my hand, and I wanted to grab it again, searching for any sign of my brother to hold on to. I felt his presence staring at me for a few seconds, then he said, "I love you big brother."

I wanted to respond back, but when I tried to talk, my voice came out slurred, worse than Two-Bit after a six pack. I attempted to speak again, hoping Ponyboy would be able to understand me this time. "I love you too little brother."

I didn't hear anything back from them, so I assumed that the nurse had escorted them out of the room. I felt a shaking beneath me as my bed was rolled down to where the surgeons would operate on my heart. I was exhausted by now, I couldn't even open my eyes to see what was going on around me. I could guess I was in the operating room by the significant drop in temperature. It was so cold in here that I was visibly shaking. I felt a sensation of being lifted and put down on a different table. I hated being here, and I wished Dr. Burns would put me out completely so this could be over with.

To my luck, he came and started saying something to me, but I couldn't understand any of it. I felt a mask being placed over my nose and mouth, and I took deep breaths. After that, all I could see was black.

XxXxXxXxXx

When I woke next, I was in so much pain I felt like my body would be ripped in half. I tried to reach my hand up to feel my chest, but I was so exhausted I couldn't make my hand move more than an inch off the bed. There was a heavy mask over my face and I was breathing in something that I recognized to be oxygen.

I heard voices that sounded unfamiliar, and two that sounded like Ponyboy and Darry. I think they were talking about me. I attempted to open my eyes to see them, but all I could make out was a bright light and fuzzy shapes.

"Looks like someone is waking up," Said a strange voice. "The surgery went as well as we could hope. You are good as new."

"You hear that Pepsi-Cola?" That came from voice I would never forget: Darry. "Your heart is as good as it can get."

I wanted to say something back, but my mouth was so dry. I wished I could have a sip of water.

As if he read my mind, I heard Ponyboy speak from behind me. "Can we give him some water?" The doctor must have agreed, because next thing I knew a straw was being guided in between my lips. I took a few grateful sips, but then the straw was taken out of my mouth.

"Sorry Soda," Ponyboy said. "I can only give you a little now. We don't want too much in your stomach at once." He started saying something else, but I couldn't hear it. I was asleep in a matter of seconds.

-Darry's POV-

Waiting for Soda to come out of surgery were some of the longest hours of my life. I was told beforehand that the procedure would last three hours, but when you're sitting in that waiting room, three hours feels like ten.

I hated the waiting room.

The guys tried to play a game of cards while we were waiting, but none of their hearts were in it. Steve didn't even attempt to cheat, and Pony had a faraway look in his eyes. He was never good at cards anyway, but now he lost four times in a row.

After what seemed like hours of waiting, a surgeon came out to greet us. "Family of Sodapop Curtis?"

"Yes, that's us." I jumped out of my chair and approached the doctor. "Please, please tell us he's okay."

"He is perfectly okay Mr. Curtis." The surgeon said. "I am pleased to say that there were no complications during surgery and that he is recovering in the surgical wing. You can see him in now, but I'm sorry that this applies to family only. His friends and other visitors can see him once he's moved back to his room in the Cardiac Intensive Care Unit."

Pony nearly collapsed into my arms once the surgeon left us. It was nice to have Pony reach out to me when he was in need of comfort, so I stroked his hair and rubbed circles on his back like Soda does. "I was so scared Darry. I didn't know if-"

"I know," I whispered back. He didn't need to finish the sentence for me. I knew that his deepest fear was that Soda wasn't going to make it. That was all of our fears. "You heard the surgeon. His heart ain't going to give him anymore problems. Let's go see him now."

Pony wiped his eyes and agreed. He was just as eager to see Soda as I was. We followed the directions that the surgeon had given us down to where Soda was resting. I was glad we had directions, because there was no way we would have navigated our way around all these twisty hallways.

We were led into a room where Soda was sleeping, and all my worries melted away. Seeing him, healthy and resting, made me feel so much better. He didn't look well, he was paler than usual and his eyes has dark circles underneath, but he was still _Soda._

Ponyboy lost a little of his pallor when he saw all tubes and wires coming off of Soda, but I guided him to chair, and he relaxed some. Soda was laying on his back without a shirt, exposing a three inch scar in the middle of his chest. He had an oxygen mask covering his half face to help him breathe, an IV was taped in the crook of his arm injecting him with fluids and medicine, and he had multiple wires on his chest monitoring his heartbeat. There was also a chest tube taped to the side of him, draining some kind of fluid from his side.

When we walked in his room, he opened his eyes a crack and they roamed around the room. His eyes were glassy and unfocused, but it was like he felt our presence was near. Fatigue got the best of him and he closed his eyes.

"Looks like someone's waking up," Said a doctor who was in the room monitoring Soda. "The surgery went as well as we could hope. You're as good as new."

"You here that Pepsi-Colas?" I asked. "Your heart is as good as it can get."

He moved his mouth slightly, like he wanted to say something back, but the words wouldn't come out of his mouth.

"Can we get him some water?" Ponyboy asked. Oh, that's why Soda couldn't respond to me. He was thirsty. The connection my two younger brothers had never ceased to amaze me.

The doctor agreed and handed Pony a small paper cup of water with a straw. Soda took a few sips before Pony had to pull the cup away. "Sorry Soda," he said. "I can only give you a little now. We don't want too much in your stomach at once."

Soda closed his eyes and fell back asleep. The simple interaction had worn him out.

"Sodapop is recovering well, well enough that we can now move him back to his room. You two and other visitors will be able to see him more there," The doctor said, and had us step out of the room so he can move Soda.

"Doin' okay, Ponyboy?" I asked. This hasn't been easy on him at all. Soda was his hero and having to see him struggle with his health was making Ponyboy's own health deteriorate. He doesn't think I've noticed, but I have. I have accepted the fact that any time of stress makes Ponyboy stop eating, so he's gotten skinnier and lost some of his build.

"I'm okay, Dare," He responded. I didn't know if I believed him, but I decided not to press the issue any further.

"C'mon," I slung my arm around his shoulders. "Let's get the guys. I'm sure they're just as eager to see Soda as we were."


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Thank you to all the readers and reviewers on my story, especially FrankElza and Pony-Edward- Lucas'Girl who always leaving such nice reviews. I love to hear what you guys think. Reviews make my day!**

-Steve's POV-

I leapt out of my chair as soon as I saw Darry and Ponyboy turn the corner. Darry looked stoic and guarded and Ponyboy was pale and shaky. That was pretty much what I expected.

"So?" I asked impatiently. "Is he okay? Can we go see him now?"

"Yes, you can go see him," Darry replied, but put a hand on my shoulder to stop me from heading to the elevators. "But keep in mind, he doesn't look too good. He's whiter than a sheet and he's got all kinds of medical equipment on him. He's pretty disoriented too. I don't even know if he recognized us or even knew we were there."

"It's okay Darry," I assured. "I can handle it."

Darry nodded and guided Two-Bit and I over to the elevators. We piled in and took the short ride up to the ICU. I couldn't help but glancing in the other patient's room as we walked past, and they looked like they had one foot in the grave already. I decided that maybe I shouldn't look anymore, and followed Darry back to Soda's room, where he laid sleeping.

Man, Darry wasn't joking around when he said Soda didn't look too good. My stomach gave a violent flip when I took a good look at Soda. I've never seen anyone look worse than him, not even Johnny after the Socs got at hold of him. How could someone recover from looking this bad?

Two-Bit stepped around me and took a seat in the chair next to Soda. I didn't even register anyone else in the room but Soda and I.

"Why don't you take a seat Steve?" Two-Bit motioned for me to sit next to him. Taking a seat sounded like a pretty good idea to me, because I was feeling a little lightheaded.

The nurse walked into Soda's room and adjusted one of the monitors and his chest. She had been nice enough to put four chairs in the room so we could each have one. "Has he woken up yet?" She asked.

"Somewhat," Darry explained. "My younger brother and I went to visit him downstairs and he was awake for about a minute. He had a few sips of water then he fell back asleep."

"That's to be expected," the nurse said. "He should be coming around in a few hours. Press the call bell when he wakes up so I can take his vitals."

The next two hours or so came and went, with the only sounds being the beeps of Soda's heartbeat on the monitor and the quiet shuffling of the deck of cards we were playing with. That was, until the rumbling of Ponyboy's stomach shocked Darry out of his quiet stupor.

"Here, Pony." Darry pulled a couple of bills out of his wallet and handed them to Pony. "Go down to the cafeteria and get us some sandwiches."

Ponyboy left the room and Two-Bit turned to Darry. "How are you doing?" He asked.

"Work is going steady and I've got a lot of new jobs lined up. I would rather be at home taking care of Soda, but being his nurse won't pay the bills. Money's tight, but we're managing." Darry answered.

"Yes, but how are _you_ doing?" Two-Bit repeated.

"I'm doing just fine. My brothers are both relying on me and until Soda gets better, I need to be the strong one." There was no denying the worry lines creasing Darry's forehead and deepened some since Soda got sick. He must not have been sleeping either, because the dark circles under his eyes matched Soda's and he nicked himself shaving this morning. Damn, he wasn't looking so good himself.

"Alright Dare, we'll believe you if you say so, but you don't gotta play Superman for us. If you need anything, anything at all, you let us know." Two-Bit said.

Darry just smiled and folded his arms across his chest. Pony returned with the sandwiches on a tray and handed us each one.

"All they had was ham and Swiss," Pony said, handing Darry back some change.

"That'll do just fine, kid. Thanks," I said.

We ate in uncharacteristic silence, until the sounds of Soda stirring shocked us out of our stillness.

Darry moved closer to his bedside and grabbed his hand. "We're here, Soda. Can you open your eyes for us?"

Soda blinked his eyes a few times, and responded to Darry's request. "Dare?" He asked, his voice was rough and he acted like speaking that simple word caused him great pain.

Ponyboy pressed the nurse's call button, to which she answered to in record time. She moved to Soda's other side and checked his heartbeat and did a bunch of other tests that I didn't know the name of. She changed his IV bags and injected him with some after surgery medicine that had a really long name. Maybe I should have paid better attention to health class…

"He seems to be doing just fine," The nurse concluded. "He'll be confused now, but once the anesthesia wears off, he will be good as new."

I scoffed, and Darry gave me a sideways glance. It seems like all everyone has been saying is "Soda is completely healed," but he didn't look that way at all to me. He looked worse now, and that was saying a whole lot.

"Can I have some more water?" Soda croaked. His voice was dryer than a bone.

Ponyboy obeyed his request and let him take a few more sips before taking it away again.

Soda turned to us, like he just noticed we were in the room. He probably did, because his eyes were still glassy and unfocused. "Hey guys," He said. "Have you been here the whole time?"

"Of course we stayed buddy," Two-Bit said, patting Soda's knee. "I'm sure you were waiting to wake up to see our smiling faces ever since those doctors knocked you out."

Soda smiled weakly. "Yeah, something like that."

Darry saw the exhaustion over Soda's face. He tried to fight it, but that medicine they gave him must've been something strong. "Go to sleep, little buddy. We'll all still be here when you wake up."

Soda listened to Darry's words and fell right back to sleep. I wished he could stay up a little bit longer, so I could have talked to him, but if sleep is what's going to make my best friend feel better, then so be it. He could sleep for two days straight if it meant his heart was repaired.

The rest of us sat around for maybe another hour or so, reading some magazines that Two-Bit "bought" from the hospital gift shop. Ponyboy and I were just about to go outside for a much needed smoke break, when the wail of Soda's heart monitor stopped us dead in our tracks. The noise was much louder than anything I've ever heard, and the little white light outside the hospital room started flashing. A team of doctors and nurses ran into the room carrying carts of medical equipment, and we were rushed out of the room so fast we didn't even know what happened.


	14. Chapter 14

-Ponyboy's POV-

I have never been so scared in my whole life. Actually, I didn't even have time to _be_ scared, because all of us were rushed out of the room so fast by a large team of doctors and nurses carrying big bags of medical equipment. I tried to take a glance at Soda from where I was standing, but all I could see was the backs of doctors who were helping my brother.

Darry pulled me into a firm hug and I broke down into a fit of sobs. At this point, I didn't even care who saw me and I could care less what they thought. I couldn't help myself. Every ounce I had of strength and dignity just vanished. I felt my knees go out from under me and the only thing keeping me from collapsing to the floor was Darry's grip on me. I cried into Darry's shirt and forced myself to not look at Soda. He could be dying in there for all we know.

I don't know how long it was before the doctors came out of Soda's room. Minutes? Hours? It all blurred together. _They couldn't save Soda and I'll never see him again. I'm too young to lose so m_

The doctors and nurses filed out of Soda's room and I braced myself for the worst. _This is it._ I thought. _They couldn't save Soda and I'll never see him again. I'm too young to lose so many people. He's too young to die…_

"Mr. Curtis?" A doctor who I recognized at Dr. Wilson approached Darry and I. Darry unwrapped his arms from me, but still kept a firm hand on my shoulder to keep me from collapsing. I looked up at him and was surprised to see that his eyes had a faint mist over them. Had Darry been crying?

"Soda is fine," Dr. Wilson continued. "His heart did not stop. He experienced a brief period of bradycardia, which is a heartbeat of under sixty beats per minute, which was too slow. His blood pressure dropped too low because of this, which set off his heart monitor. Low blood pressure is typical for some to experience after surgery. One of our nurses gave him medicine through his IV to keep his blood pressure at a normal level. We wouldn't want to give him a sedative because of the anesthesia he was just on, but if he wakes up in distress, please let us know so we can help him. Any questions?"

"No, no thank you doctor," Darry said, more composed than I was. Even though Dr. Wilson had said that Soda was fine, tears were still streaming down my cheeks. I didn't even make an attempt to wipe them away, because I knew it was no use. Seeing Soda like that had scared me so bad that I could not stop crying.

"Let's go see in and see Soda, okay?" Two-Bit had said, with Steve standing behind him. Oh yeah, in the midst of my panic I must have forgotten that they were here. I hoped they would be nice enough to not tease me about bawling like a baby in the middle of a crowded hospital hallway.

Darry kept a hold of me as we walked back into Soda's room. I wasn't sure what I expected Soda to look like, but he looked the same as before. He looked so peaceful, that I wasn't even sure Soda knew what was had happened to him. I doubted it, and for his sake, that was probably a good thing. One less person to worry.

Darry crouched over Soda and pushed a few stray hairs off of his forehead. "Please, Pepsi-Cola, please don't scare us like that ever again. I don't think my own heart can take it."

Soda opened his eyes and blinked them sleepily. "Somethin' wrong Dare?"

"No, Sodapop, no. Everything is fine. Go back to sleep."

Soda closed his eyes and fell back into a deep sleep. I was glad that he didn't seem agitated when he woke up because I didn't want the doctors to give him anymore medicine that would make him sleep more.

"Hey kid?" Steve's voice interrupted my thoughts. "You ain't lookin' so good. Do you wanna sit down?"

Damn, if Steve was being nice to me then I must have not looked too good. I quietly excused myself and headed down the hallway to find a bathroom. I found one of those bathrooms that only fits one person at a time, so I shut the door and locked it behind me. Nothing is worse than having someone walk in on you when you're trying to do your business.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I realized that Steve was right for once. I did look bad. My ungreased hair was falling in my eyes and my tired eyes resembled those of a zombie. I don't remember the last night I got a good night's sleep. The last time I can recall myself looking so bad was when I got home from Windrixville and Johnny was dying in this hospital.

I finished up in the bathroom and headed over to the elevators. I wasn't ready to go back to Soda's room. Not yet. Not when I had another agenda in mind.

I got off at the floor I wanted and headed down the hall. I knew exactly where I was going. I was going back to the room where Johnny died in. Back to when everything changed and would never be the same again.

I was glad there was no patient in the room, just a nurse who exited with a bundle of sheets in her arms. I didn't need anyone looking at me right now.

Everything was in the same place as it was five months ago. The same skinny hospital bed was in the center of the room, the same ugly wallpaper covered the walls, the same lifesaving medical equipment in the corner of the room. I could picture everything as it unfolded just as it happened that one horrible, horrible night. Johnny lying there, burned so badly he couldn't move, using his last breath to tell me to stay gold. Johnny closing his eyes, never to be opened again. Dallas punching the wall and leaving me alone in the hospital to go on his death mission. Dallas not be seen again until he was gunned down by the cops. Two friends, two deaths, one night.

I'm so sick of death. I'm sick of death ruining everything for me. My parents should be here. Johnny and Dallas should be here. And Soda, well, he was knocking on death's door. I know that I can't handle another person I loved dying.

I got back quickly to Soda's room. I already felt guilty for leaving him for my own selfish agenda. If that was me in that hospital bed, I know Soda wouldn't leave my side. The only thing I could do now was to do the same for him. I hope that was enough.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Here it is: the last chapter! Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed my story! I hope everyone enjoyed this. Please be on the lookout for my next story, which I will have up by the end of the week. And of course, stay gold.**

-Darry's POV-

The rest of Soda's hospital stay went off without a hitch, which I was so glad for. After the events that took place on Saturday, Heaven knows that we needed some down time. Well, everyone but Soda wanted down time. He's been chomping at the bit to get out of the confines of his hospital bed and I couldn't wait for him to come home either. For this week and a half, my routine has been extremely exhausting. Wake up at 6:00 a.m., pound nails a roof for hours, drive to the hospital to be with Soda, go home to take care of Ponyboy, go to my other job at the warehouse, squeeze in five hours of sleep, then wake up and do the whole thing over again. Sometimes in between work shifts, I would drive Ponyboy back to the hospital to see Soda. I was sick of the constant monotony, but what choice did I have? I did what I had to do.

Today was Thursday, which meant that I could finally take Soda home after a long stay in this hospital. I was so glad he could finally come back home, where he belonged.

"Hey Darry," Soda said, sitting in a wheelchair next to his bed. "Are you ready to bail me out of this jail?"

"In a few minutes little buddy. I have to sign some paper work before I can take you home. Believe me, I'm just as eager to get you home too."

I headed over to the nurse's station to get Soda's discharge papers. By the time I got back, he changed out of that ugly hospital gown and back into his street clothes. He wore sweatpants and a long sleeve shirt and all the IV's, heart monitors and cannulas where off of him. He was finally free from all medical equipment. He looked good, better than he had in a long time.

"Let's go Soda. Let's get you outta here."

"I am so ready to go home." Soda flashed one of his signature grins, one that I haven't seen in a long time. It was nice to see him happy about something again, even if that something was fairly minor. Soda stood up and made an attempt to get out of the wheelchair, but I put my hand on his shoulder and guided him back down.

"Easy there Soda," I said. "I know you're excited, but I have to wheel you out. It's hospital policy. The doctors won't let you out if they see you walking out of here."

Soda made a face, but he agreed, until we were out of the hospital doors. "Please Darry," he begged me. "Just let me walk to the truck. It ain't that far. I could see the truck from here! I can-"

"Alright."

Soda stopped his talking. "Alright? You're actually gonna let me? I didn't even try that hard."

"I'll admit, you beggin' me was a little funny, but I'll let you walk. Like you said, it ain't that far."

I helped Soda out of the chair and parked it outside the hospital doors for someone else to use. By the time I was back, Soda was already half way across the parking lot.

"Easy Soda," I called after him. "Take it slow. What kind of guardian would I be if you passed out in the hospital parking lot?"

He laughed, but then shut his eyes and gripped my arm. "You're right. I'm gettin' a little dizzy."

"C'mon then." I kept a firm grasp on his arm and half walked, half dragged back to the truck. It shocked me how much of Soda's energy was zapped from just a simple walk back to the parking lot.

"Thanks Dare," Soda said, once we were in the truck. I let the truck roar to life and steered it home. I divided my attention between looking at the road, and looking at Soda. He was starting to look like my little brother again, and I wanted that more than ever. He had some pink back in his cheeks and he had some of his appetite back, which meant that he had gained some weight.

I pulled the truck into the driveway and immediately noticed how good the house looked. Someone must have mowed the lawn and picked up all the trash that was covering the porch. Soda saw it too.

"Wow," he said, getting himself out of the truck. "Who would have thought that I would be happy to see this place?"

"I wonder who cleaned up," I thought out loud, but my questioned was answered quickly.

"Yoo hoo!" Two-Bit stuck his head out the front door and waved. "Sodapop Curtis! What a sight for sore eyes you are!"

Steve and Ponyboy followed behind. "Are ya'll going to come in, or are you going to stand outside all day?" Steve said.

"Believe me Steve," Soda said. "I can't wait to get inside."

"Well then let's get you in there!" Two-Bit teased and helped Soda into the house.

"Glory, what smells so great?" Soda asked, reading my mind. A powerful aroma was wafting into the kitchen and I had to admit, it smelled pretty damn good.

"Sit down at the table and we'll show you," Ponyboy instructed.

We followed Pony's instructions, while Two-Bit ran into the kitchen to stop a pot of potatoes from boiling over. Steve set down three big pots of food on the kitchen table.

"Okay, we have fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans," Steve pointed to each food as he named it. "And we also have rolls in the oven if pea brain Two-Bit didn't burn them yet."

I didn't care about bread, I was already digging in. I couldn't remember the last time I had a real home cooked meal like this. "You cooked this?" I asked, as soon as the food hit my taste buds. "This is delicious." The chicken was nice and juicy, and the potatoes were flavorful.

"Well," Two-Bit started, joining us for dinner. "Steve and I didn't _really_ cook the meal, but we put it in the oven. Pony over here was the genius behind the food."

"You made all this for me?" Soda asked, patting Pony's knee. "Gee, thanks Pone. This is best food I've had in a long time."

Pony simply smiled. The five of us sat around the table, talking, eating, and joking around just like we used to before Soda got sick. It was nice to have some shred of normal back in our lives after everything that we've dealt with this past three months. Soda wasn't fully healed just yet, he was still on medication and he tired quickly, but at least he didn't have to drag around that oxygen tank anymore.

Soda got tired after we ate, and went to go lay down while the rest of us did the dishes. It may take him awhile to be fully healed, but at least he was home. Home is where he belongs and where he will stay.


End file.
